“I’m sure it exists,” Damien said. “We just need to find the most successful one.”
“That sounds expensive,” she said.
“The alternative isn’t cheap,” he pointed out.
She nodded in agreement. “I’m just not sure I can afford it.”
“I can,” he said.
Emma stared at Damien in amazement. “Pardon me?”
“I said I have enough money.” Damien gave a wry laugh. “I have money to burn.”
“But—”
“You and I can negotiate an arrangement.”
Emma frowned, feeling an undercurrent of fear and doubt. “Arrangement?”
“Very simple,” he said. “I pay off your mother’s debts, you keep your Tesla. You remain my lover and faithful, loyal assistant.”
Emma stared at him in disbelief. “You’re suggesting that I trade my loyalty in exchange for you paying for my mother’s mistakes?”
“I’ll compensate you in other ways financially, of course. Seems a fair trade to me,” he said.
Emma fought a wave of nausea. “So, I sell myself and my integrity for the sake of my mother.”
“That’s more harsh than it needs to be. You’ve been to bed with me. You know we can take care of each other.”
Squeezing her forehead, she bit her lip as she thought of the implications. “I would have no future with MD.”
“I would take care of you.”
“Until you grew tired of me,” she said, meeting his gaze. “How long do you propose for this to last?”
Silence swelled between them.
“Until you grow tired of me,” she repeated, her stomach twisting violently.
“Actually, I would say indefinitely,” he told her, leaning toward her. “I’ve never met a woman like you. A woman with your combination of qualities. I’m not sure I ever will again.”
She saw something in his eyes, want, need, that made his offer feel just a little more palatable. Yet…“I need to think about this,” she said.
“How much time do you have?”
“Not much with the people she owes,” Emma said. “The problem with bailing her out is that it doesn’t give her an opportunity to face her illness.”
He nodded. “That’s why she may need more than bailout money. Money for treatment. Think about it and let me know.”
Emma barely slept at all that night. She tossed and turned. How could she possibly sell her loyalty? Her integrity? The possibility sickened her. She struggled to find an alternative, any alternative, but all the possibilities left her in debt for the rest of her life with the chance that her mother would fall again.
Emma knew that her mother needed to face her creditors for herself and that a bailout was not going to help her mother take responsibility for herself. She just couldn’t imagine any other solution. Her mother would never make enough money to pay off her debt. What if her so-called creditors got rough with her? What if they killed her?
Emma wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she allowed that to happen. Her mother clearly needed intensive treatment, expensive treatment.
After an endless night, morning finally arrived and Emma applied blush and extra concealer to hide her stress and the dark circles under her eyes. Wearing a cream-colored business dress, she walked into the office, wishing she were wearing sunglasses. A little extra armor would be great. Damien was already in his office. No surprise there. She tapped on his door.
“Yes?” he said.
“It’s Emma.”
“Come in,” he said.
She walked inside, but didn’t take a seat. He rose, which forced her to look up to him.
“Good morning,” he said.
“The jury’s still out on that,” she said. “You’ve made me an offer. I’d like to nail down the terms.”
“I thought I made it clear. I’ll pay for your mother’s treatment and her debts in exchange for your loyalty as my assistant and my lover.”
“I’d like an expiration date on that,” she said.
He lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” she said.
“Okay. Two years,” he said.
“One,” she countered.
He paused. “Okay, but we both may want to renegotiate.”
“I just want the ground rules,” she said. “I’ll need to take a couple days off.”
“Fine. I’ll transfer the funds to whatever account you want.”
Emma felt another ball of nausea rise to her throat, but she took a deep breath to counter the terrible sensation. This was the best way out of a bad situation. She pulled out a deposit slip from her bank account and gave it to him. “Thank you,” she said in a low voice.
“Emma,” he said and she felt too much just from the way he said her name.
Shaking her head, she tried to get her emotions in check. “I have a lot of things to do. I’ll talk to you later,” she said and left his office.
She immediately took the elevator to the executive offices. Hearing the echo of her heels clicking down the hallway, she headed for Alex’s office first. She’d always felt Alex was a little more human than Max. It would be easier to tell Alex than Max. Unfortunately, according to his assistant, Alex wouldn’t be in today.
Gathering her courage, she walked to Max’s office. He, of course, was there, and immediately welcomed her.
“Good to see you, Emma. You’re doing a great job,” he said, motioning toward a chair in his office suite. “Great warning on the South Beach site. I think we were able to head off any objections from the board.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, remaining standing.
He stared at her for a moment. “Excuse me?”
“I can no longer be a spy against Damien Medici. It’s too hard for me to try to be helpful to him at the same time that I’m supposed to be working against him.” Sensing Max’s extreme disappointment and disapproval, she felt her stomach twist and turn. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it. I understand if you want to release me.”
Silence sat in the room like a heavy, undigested meal. “No,” he said. “What we asked you to do would be difficult for most, impossible for many. Damien won’t be here forever. You’ve been a loyal employee. You’ll always have a job at Megalos-De Luca Enterprises as long as I have a say.”
“Thank you,” she said, feeling like a traitor. “That means a lot.”
Still sick with worry over her mother, Emma left headquarters and went to her apartment. The familiarity of her surroundings provided little comfort with her personal and professional life in such upheaval. Pulling out her laptop, she began to research the success rate of facilities designed to help people with gambling addictions. Within days, her mother’s debts would be paid, but the larger problem of her mother’s illness had to be addressed.
Later that evening as she ate a sandwich and checked flights going to Missouri, a knock sounded at her door. Emma rose and checked the peephole, surprised to see Damien, still dressed in the suit he’d been wearing that morning, on her doorstep. Struggling with an odd sense of combined relief and dread, she opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said in return. “I thought I should check on you to see what your plans are.”
“Come in,” she said. “I was just looking at flights to Missouri. I’ve been doing some research on residential treatment facilities.”
“I asked my company assistant to do some research, too,” he said and pulled an envelope from his coat pocket. “Here’s a list of three that are reputable and have high success rates.”
Surprised at his thoughtfulness, she accepted the envelope. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. There’s no need to fly commercial. You can use my company jet.”
Emma shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”
“I said I would take care of you,” he reminded her. “You don’t need to do this alone. I can come with you.”
Emma bit her lip and fought the strange urge to lean on his strength. She had no doubt that Damien could take care of her. Heaven help her, this situation was complicated. The problem with letting him take care of her was that she dare not get used to it.
“No. It’s best if I handle this myself. You’re already contributing too much financially,” she said.
“Emma, you haven’t made a deal with the devil,” he told her. “Look at me. You can count on me.”
Twelve
Emma made the tough trip to Missouri and confronted her mother about her gambling addiction. She called it that: an addiction. Her mother cried, but confessed her weakness and her need.
Emma required her mother to personally pay off her creditors. Then her mother agreed that she needed help. Emma proposed on-site treatment and to her surprise, her mother leaped at the opportunity. She helped her mother pack and joined her on a flight to the treatment facility she hoped would get her mother on the right track.
Seventy-two hours after she’d first left Las Vegas, her return flight touched down on the runway back home. She was so exhausted she could cry, but she still needed to grab a cab and go home.
She pulled her carry-on bag through the airport, past the slot machines that lured arrival passengers to take a chance and win. The big jackpot was only one pull of the handle away. The thought made her stomach turn. The elusive promise of winning big had continually seduced her mother and made her home life unstable.
Emma didn’t believe in the big payoff. In fact, she feared the promise of it, because it never lasted. She walked outside the terminal to catch a cab. Instead of a taxi, however, a low-slung Ferrari pulled alongside the curb and stopped.
Her heart took a dip. It couldn’t possibly be Damien. She hadn’t been in touch with him since she’d left.